Page 19 of Shadows of Winter

Kaylina didn’t want to imagine the authorities doing anything vile to elderly law-abiding subjects, but Frayvar was right. If they fled, it would be suspicious, and they might no longer be deemed law-abiding subjects themselves.

“They’ll let us go,” Frayvar repeated. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Except for being ignorant tourists?” She bristled as she quoted Vlerion.

“That’s not a crime. Besides, if we run, you won’t get your sling back.”

Shit. That was a good point.

“Fine.” Kaylina pushed rocks and dust off the bench and sat with her arms folded across her chest to wait.

Frayvar arched his eyebrows. “Are you sulking or scheming? I can’t always tell.”

“I’m debating what to do next to make sure I get my sling and our honey back.” She well remembered that her pack and their trunks had been left in the castle courtyard and hoped nobody had stolen them.

“So, scheming.” Frayvar sat beside her. “Good.”

6

Adaptability is the greatest quality on the battlefield.

~ Ranger Captain Targon

Fifteen or twenty minutes passed before anyone came to check on the jail cells. The smoke had cleared, and a horse-drawn wagon had arrived, stopping beside the unmoving body of the beast that had attacked Vlerion. Attacked him and lost.

Kaylina hadn’t seen the barge after its crew released the yekizar, but she guessed it had continued down the canal and out to the harbor.

Two men in gray-and-black Kingdom Guard uniforms ignored the fallen beast and lifted human bodies into the back of the wagon. They used more care than one might expect, given that the dead had been facilitating a jailbreak.

Kaylina's stomach turned when the guards lifted the headless body. She looked away, reminded of how Vlerion had decapitated the man with no change of expression, no anger, no satisfaction, no glee.

How many had he killed in his life to be completely unaffected like that? The songs and stories about the rangers always told of their heroics in defending the borders, in riding through the wilderness and protecting villages and watchtowers from the human-loathing Kar’ruk and the great mountain beasts that hungered for the flesh of men. She couldn’t remember tales that spoke of rangers putting down rebellions and killing human beings, but she supposed their duties implied they would do that when the Guard wasn’t sufficient to handle uprisings.

“I believe our opportunity to escape has ended,” Frayvar murmured as a taybarri ambled into view on stout blue-furred legs and stopped, blocking the view of the canal. Nobody sat astride its back, but its ranger rider had to be nearby.

“Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind about that after you wouldn’t let me walk out.”

“You wanted to join rebels and find their bases.” He gave her an aggrieved look as he wiped his palms on his trousers.

Nervous, was he? That they’d made the wrong decision?

So was she.

“I would have objected less to sneaking away and creeping back to the castle to gather our belongings, board a ship, and go home.”

“We’re not going home.” No way would Kaylina let one little mishap destroy her dream.

Frayvar winced, a reminder that he’d only come because he’d thought she needed help starting the business. On their first day, he’d gotten far more adventure than he’d wanted, she had no doubt.

“I’m not going home,” she amended.

As much as the money he’d brought would be helpful, she didn’t want him to stay if he didn’t want to. Being alone here would be scary, but she wouldn’t have to worry about him as much if he went home.

Frayvar opened his mouth, but before he could speak, two men walked into view, stopping between the taybarri and the hole in the cell. Vlerion and Targon gazed in at Kaylina and Frayvar.

Dried blood smeared the side of Targon’s head, and a cut had opened his leather armor, revealing a long gash along his ribs. Vlerion, other than someone else’s blood spattered on the back of his hand and soot smearing one cheek, looked little different from when the rangers had questioned Kaylina.

Targon’s words to Vlerion came to mind: Hardly anyone ever touches you in a fight.

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